


For You Alone

by FoxyDangerfluff (Argent_Vulpine)



Series: Never Let You Go [9]
Category: Changeling (Visual Novel)
Genre: Bad Dreams, Canon Compliant, Comforting, Cuddles, F/M, Nightmare, Post Game, Reading Aloud, Shakespeare, Sonnets, reading to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 07:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17997797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argent_Vulpine/pseuds/FoxyDangerfluff





	For You Alone

She couldn’t remember what had woken her, only that it hadn’t been pleasant. Her skin was covered in a sheen of cold sweat – made worse by the fact that Marc liked to keep the room on the chilly side at night – that set her to shivering.

He was awake and watching her carefully. It took her a moment to shake off the feeling of dread and unease that lingered in the pit of her stomach, and only then could she focus on him. Marc got up from the bed and padded away, gone for the briefest of moments before he returned with a soft cloth.

Nora reached for it, but he wordlessly glared at her. She subsided more quickly than usual, and he began to carefully wipe the sweat from her face and neck. His ministrations were gentle, and she let out a quavering sigh. Nightmares were unpleasant on the whole, but she was so, so grateful to have such a loving partner… even if he did act grumpy about it.

His lips twitched into a slight smile. “I’m not grumpy,” he said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I didn’t say you were.”

Of course, he opted not to respond to that, instead settling down on the bed and pulling her against him, where she was leaning into his side, her head on his shoulder. Par for the course, as far as nights like this went.

This wasn’t the first time she’d had a nightmare, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. But over the years, he had learned that she mostly didn’t remember any details. On nights she couldn’t remember them, she would rather just get past the feeling and go back to sleep.

He kept one arm wrapped around her, his hand resting on her bare arm. She reached for the blankets and pulled them up, snuggling closer to him, settling in to listen, her eyes drifting closed. She liked his voice, and he’d found one of the best ways to relax her was to read to her.

 

_“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?_

_Thou art more lovely and more temperate:_

_Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,_

_And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;_

_Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,_

_And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;_

_And every fair from fair sometime declines,_

_By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;_

_But thy eternal summer shall not fade,_

_Nor lose possession of that four thou ow’st;_

_Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,_

_When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:_

_So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,_

_So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”_

 

She smirked slightly, tilting her head up and cracking her eyes open to peek at him. He had a book of Shakespeare’s sonnets. Nora had to smother a giggle, but he knew anyway, that she was thinking it amusing to hear him reading sonnets from a poet whose work he so disliked.

At least he’d chosen a nice one to read. It was one of her favorites.

“I know,” he said, voice quiet if a bit disgruntled. “I can stop reading, if you’re going to be like this about it.”

“Sorry, sorry,” she replied, biting back her grin. “Please continue?”

He gave a soft, fondly exasperated sigh and turned the pages, seeking another suitable enough to read.

 

_“So are you to my thoughts as food to life,_

_Or as sweet-season'd showers are to the ground;_

_And for the peace of you I hold such strife_

_As 'twixt a miser and his wealth is found._

_Now proud as an enjoyer, and anon_

_Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure;_

_Now counting best to be with you alone,_

_Then better'd that the world may see my pleasure:_

_Sometime all full with feasting on your sight,_

_And by and by clean starved for a look;_

_Possessing or pursuing no delight_

_Save what is had, or must from you be took._

_Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day,_

_Or gluttoning on all, or all away.”_

 

Nora’s breathing had evened out, though she wasn’t yet asleep. A part of her was still awake enough to focus on him and his voice, if not the words themselves.

Marc set the book down, then reached up to brush a lock of her hair away from her face, causing her to stir briefly, her lips brushing against his palm. She smiled sleepily when he bent down to press a soft kiss to her lips. “One more?” he asked at a whisper, picking the book back up when she slowly nodded.

 

_“Let not my love be called idolatry,_

_Nor my beloved as an idol show,_

_Since all alike my songs and praises be_

_To one, of one, still such, and ever so._

_Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind,_

_Still constant in a wondrous excellence;_

_Therefore my verse to constancy confined,_

_One thing expressing, leaves out difference._

_Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,_

_Fair, kind, and true, varying to other words;_

_And in this change is my invention spent,_

_Three themes in one, which wondrous scope affords._

_Fair, kind, and true, have often lived alone,_

_Which three till now, never kept seat in one.”_

 

Her thoughts were quiet and her heartbeat steady by the time he finished. Marc closed the book and set it on the nightstand, glancing briefly at the clock. It was early, still, for which he was grateful. She should be able to get a decent amount of sleep, despite the nightmare.

He carefully moved her until she was in a more comfortable position for the night, though he kept an arm around her, holding her close, until he, too, drifted off into sleep.


End file.
